


You always seem to bring me light

by sugarsweetie



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Alcohol, Birthday Party, Dancing, Friendship is Magic, Long-Haired Yuri Plisetsky, M/M, dj otabek, literally the idea of him being a dj was keeping me up at night so like i wrote this, there's like a paragraph of viktuuri at the beginning cos i can literally never let go, tipsy yuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 11:00:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9720731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarsweetie/pseuds/sugarsweetie
Summary: It's Yuri's 18th birthday (Well it was a month ago but it's not until worlds that all of his friends can be with him to celebrate it) and everyone goes to a club for him.The DJ of the night is something special.AKAYuri's dancing impresses DJ Otabek so much he whisks him away for a romantic date right after his set.HAPPY VALENTINES DAY :P





	

**Author's Note:**

> im literally midway through (at the beginning of) writing another fic but i had to get this out because DJ OTABEK CONFIRMED REALLY CHANGED MY ENTIRE LIFE. anyway. here it is. 
> 
> the title is from a song called Angel by the Weeknd

The music was so loud it made him feel like he’d be deaf before the night ended. It had the room shaking, his heart’s tempo aligning to it, his entire body vibrating with the power of the bass rumbling through it. The room was stuffed full to the brim with men and women, all sweaty, women barely dressed and wanton, men grabby and desperate. It should have been awful. If Yuri had been paying attention to those things maybe it would have been. But he was at the club with his friends and he was slightly tipsy for the first time and all he wanted to do was dance. 

Yuuri and Viktor were already disappearing into the crowd, Viktor plastered all over the younger man’s back as per usual, Katsuki sending flinty eyed looks his way, so intense it looked like they were in a world of their own. They got like that far too often by Yuri’s standards but in this room, dimly lit in pinks and purples and strobe whites, with the music drowning out words so that only body language could speak, well. They blended right in. Yuri looked away when they started grinding though, bodies moving in a way that spoke far, far too clearly of activities that needed to take place in private. 

Shaking his head he grinned and let Phichit guide him further into the pit of moving bodies. 

“The DJ tonight is meant to be good – really good! Let’s get to the front before he comes on!” He was saying, smile huge and sweet as he aggressively elbowed people out of their way. “How are you liking it?” Yuri could only hear about half of the words he knew Phichit was saying – the rest were filled in via luck and hope. 

“It’s loud. I can barely hear myself think!” the vodka shots he had done in celebration of finally turning 18 didn’t help much. His brain felt – ever so slightly soft around the edges. It was surreal, when he spent so much time hyper focused on everything, forcefully on edge, to be so… relaxed. Especially in a place like this, where he would in any other situation probably be so annoyed at everyone around him. “I like it!” His eyes were wide and sparkling with excitement. 

He took Phichit’s proffered hand and let the older boy pull him through the crowd. 

_Yuri with the tension drained out of his body seemed like a whole different person to any other version of him anyone had ever seen. He was slender and small, but when he was sober, when he was tense, he stood so that he seemed so much taller. He gave out vibes like he could and would fight anyone, and it was impossible to look at him and see someone sweet. Someone as delicate as the persona he put out on the ice sometimes. But here? Now? His body seemed like it was all curves instead of sharp corners. All slender limbs instead of clenched fists. His eyes were heavy lidded and warm, warmer than anyone had ever known his ice blue gaze could be. He smiled easily, not simply baring his teeth, but a genuine smile that had his eyes crinkly and his cheeks soft. His long light blonde hair, ending halfway down his back now that he had been growing it out for so long, was soft and fluffy like spun gold, and the glitter he had let Phichit put on his cheeks made him look ever so slightly ethereal. He was gorgeous like this. He was always gorgeous, anyone could tell you that. But like this, all soft and warm, he was gorgeous like something you could touch and not like an ice sculpture that would freeze you before you could feel it._

_It was no surprise that a lot of eyes were on him. Men and women alike, they caught sight of the beautiful boy with the pink pout and the doe eyes and they were entranced. Enchanted. This Yuri was so much more of the fairy that the press always described him as, and to think they didn’t even know this version of him could exist._

When they finally were as far forward as Phichit wanted them to be they stopped. The group of them were close to the barrier, but not directly against it like some of the people who were hanging over it, apparently eager to see the DJ perform. Not that it was much of a performance as far as Yuri knew – what was exciting about watching some weird guy who probably wore sunglasses indoors stand at a table and move some CDs for a couple of hours? Seung- gil, Leo, Guang Hong, and Minami were there, as well as Mila (grinning hugely at the sight of a tipsy Yuri) and Sara, who had sent Mickey away with a ‘I can’t have fun dancing with men while you’re here!’ and Emil sympathetically going away with him. Chris had even come, but he and his boyfriend had disappeared even more speedily than Viktor and Yuuri, probably to be equally indecent in another dark spot on the dance floor. It had been Phichit’s idea for them to all stay for a couple days after Worlds – hosted in Kazakhstan that year – and celebrate Yuri’s birthday. It might have been almost a full month late but he got to celebrate his birthday with the bulk of his friends all in the same place at the same time for once, and he might not want to show it but he was happy about it. Mila had been the one to suggest they go clubbing at least once. 

_“You’ve never been! Everyone has to go clubbing while they’re young! And, don’t you want a chance to show everyone how much better you are than the other Yuuri at dancing now hmm? You can’t let all those extra dance classes you’ve been doing go to waste sweets!”_

And as they all began to move it became clear that Yuri wasn’t going to let that happen. 

He moved like nothing they had ever seen before, sensual and seductive with the roll of his hips and the turns of his waist, the way his hands moved up and down his body, slid down his hips and up into the air above his head. His let his hands tangle in his hair, lift it up and drop it down, he spun, short and sharp and sent the golden locks flying around him like a delayed reaction. Every movement of his body was perfectly in time with the beat and every flick of his tongue to wet his glistening lips had hearts stopping, people losing their rhythm to stare at the angel lighting up the room. He had dressed the part that day as well, wearing a thin white top, almost sheer, that hung off one of his shoulders, exposing the soft slope of his shoulder and his collarbones in a way that was almost indecent. It hung fairly loose but a light breeze could have it plastered to his chest, revealing his toned athletes body. He wore white skinny jeans as well, the type that was almost more rips than fabric, and so skinny it seemed like paint had been poured onto his legs specifically to highlight his muscular thighs and shapely calves. His top and the jeans barely met, so whenever he moved his arms his stomach was exposed, as well as the v of his hips where his jeans rode lower than he was used to. Combined with the light colour of his hair, he stood out like an ethereal being made of light in the middle of the dark club.

Time and again people tried to dance with him. Men would come up behind him and try fruitlessly to match his rhythmic hips, and he would snake his way out of their grasps and continue to dance alone. Women would try and sidle in front of him, some of them facing him and trying to dance with him, others more direct and simply trying to press their asses to his groin. He moved away from them as well. He didn’t come here to dance with anyone, wasn’t interested in anything but seeing how the music guided his body. Not to mention none of the people approaching him were really his type. Too desperate. 

Mila laughed aloud every time somebody came along to try and dance with Yuri – it was ridiculous honestly, that any of them really thought they stood a chance. He was on a different plane from those mere mortals, seemingly somehow more in the pulsating lights that lit up flashes of his ivory skin and golden hair. 

Suddenly the music was being shouted over by some guy that had come onto the stage to get the crowd ready for the DJ. He was largely ignored as he asked repeatedly if everybody was ready to get down and dirty. From the amount of bodies moving against each other in the dark, everyone had come ready for dirty and many people were already down. “HELLOOOOO ALMATY! Everybody in the house get READY FOR THE ONE! THE ONLY! DJ! OTB!” 

Yuri hadn’t planned on paying any attention to the DJ. He knew his friends were excited; Sara and Phichit stopped dancing to jump up and down and scream with the rest of the crowd, and even Seung-gil turned his sober gaze towards the stage. (Seeing the so called ‘robot of japan’ busting moves that had Yuri wondering if he had bones at all or was simply rubber – that was interesting.) 

The DJ was clearly popular because suddenly the room of dancers was acting like a crowd before a concert, suddenly pushing everyone towards the barriers that separated the floor from the stage. Yuri felt himself being pushed by the force of the crowd and scowled as he had to stop dancing. He looked up at the stage to glare resentfully at the cause of this disruption just as he had been getting into the zone – and stopped. 

The DJ wasn’t the sweaty middle aged man he had somehow been expecting. He was young, a couple years older than Yuri maybe. He looked like he was a Kazakh native, with tan skin and single lidded eyes. His hair was black and thick, with an undercut which helped to show off the earrings lining his earlobes. He wore a serious expression, almost a frown, his thick brows drawn low over eyes that seemed black. Yuri couldn’t be certain but he felt for a second as though that intense gaze had landed directly on him. His heart seemed to stutter for a second, and he blushed as that idea occurred to him, shaking his head and looking away. Who was he, to be getting so silly over a pretty face, Viktor? He shook his head and looked back at the stage. 

The DJ was no longer looking in his direction, instead he was fiddling at the turntables, one hand holding a headphone to one ear while the other pressed at random buttons and occasionally moved the discs about. 

At his side Mila gripped his arm and moved close to his ear to whisper above the cheers and whistles still coming from the crowd. “He’s so hot, isn’t he, Yura? He looks like the kinda bad boy you would go for in your wannabe punk phase!” Her eyebrows were waggling suggestively and she had a silly smirk on her face. Mila was all too fond of referring to his slightly brattier behaviour as a younger teen as his ‘wannabe punk phase’ despite the fact that, while marginally less rude and aggressive all the time, he hadn’t changed much. He had gained only a couple inches in height. He still wore animal prints that everyone around him deemed garish. He still scowled as his go to expression. He still yelled profanities at everyone when they pushed any of his many, many buttons. Like Mila was doing right then. 

“Shut up! I was never a wannabe punk you hag. And he’s the kind of guy I would go for now.” He growled defensively, crossing his arms as she slung an arm over his shoulder. 

He knew as soon as he looked up at the positively diabolical grin on Mila’s face that he had played, ever so slightly, into her hands. She was taller than him in heels and it annoyed him to no end, especially when she had a smug look on her face. “So, you would go for him huh? Well it’s a good thing I’ve gotten us invited to an after party he is rumoured to be going to! You’re so lucky I’m your friend baby.” 

“Fuck off.” He retorted, but he wrapped an arm around her waist all the same, so she knew he wasn’t really mad at her. “I’m not going for anyone you idiot. Just cos I’m 18 doesn’t mean I’m suddenly going to become a sex fiend like you, or a love rat like Georgi. I just – I have eyes okay? He’s fucking hot! stop making it a big deal!” 

_”Never have I ever… Had sex!” Sara crowed to the circle, garnering laughs and groans alike._

_Most everyone drank, except the one kid who was younger than Yuri._

_And, notably, Yuri._

_“You’re still a virgin?” Viktor asked, deigning for the first time in a while to pull his head up from where he had been nosing at Yuuri’s neck, using alcohol as an excuse for his obnoxious tendency to be handsy as hell whenever his husband would allow it. “Have you ever dated anybody at all?”_

_“Shut up old man! This isn’t twenty questions, move the fuck on.” Yuri had willed himself not to blush but the room was already too warm and he couldn’t quite tell how successful he was. It was nobody’s business who he did or, more accurately, did not choose to get with. Just because he wasn’t fucking obsessed with sleeping with as many people as he could unlike some people… It didn’t mean anything._

_He downed his drink when Mila asked “Never have I ever kissed anyone!” while looking directly at him, and then he threw his plastic cup directly in her face, to her spluttering indignation._

Mila just shook her head and continued to smile, opening her mouth to say something else. To Yuri’s great relief she was cut off by the DJ tapping on the microphone. 

“Good evening, Almaty. I’ll get right into things, shall I?” And without preamble he began to play the music. 

Yuri could tell instantly why so many people seemed to like this DJ, other than his good looks. The songs he chose were all good, the perfect songs to be danced to in the tight, charged atmosphere of the club. They were fast and electronic, then heavy bass and sexy, then fast beats, then classics that nobody could resist moving to. He knew what people wanted to listen to and he wasn’t afraid to provide it. His arms moved quickly as he spun the discs, his head nodding only slightly to the tunes as he played them, body moving with just a hint of fluidity that had Yuri even more intrigued as the night wore on. 

He didn’t talk over the songs as much as most DJs, introducing a couple and occasionally saying things like “Get ready for the drop” in his low even tone, which was somehow exciting despite its casualness. He didn’t seem to feel the need to be the same as every other DJ, to do the things that supposedly made DJ’s ‘good’. He did his own thing – and it worked well for him. 

Soon enough Yuri was lost in the music again, letting his body go with the flow, letting his mind wander until nothing was in his head but the notes, until nothing was holding him together as much as the music seeming to thread through him entirely. He let his arms swing, his hips move, his body twirl. He danced away from grasping hands; flitting between dancing with Mila, his thigh between her legs and her arms around his neck, then Phichit, the older boy holding his waist lightly and pressing their chests together, then Sara, who matched him move for move when he did body rolls that would have made Beyoncé proud. He let himself get sweaty as hell, hairs sticking to his forehead, bare collarbone glistening when the light hit it, and he didn’t stop. He sunk into the music as deeply as he sunk into ballet, or a really good skate. Like his brain could finally switch off and he could really relax. 

It felt as though only a few minutes had passed when Otabek announced that his hour and a half was up, to the heartbroken boos of the crowd. Yuri stopped dancing then, panting heavily, and accepted Mila’s hand as she dragged him towards the seating area. They collapsed into the plush leather couches and caught their breathes in comfortable silence for a while. 

“He was sooo good, wasn’t he?” 

Yuri grunted in the affirmative. He was gazing up at the ceiling, looking at the way the lasers played on it, the different colours as bright as ever even after hours. 

“So eloquent and expressive today!” Mila said teasingly, but just as Yuri opened his mouth to snark back he looked down and met the intense gaze of Otabek Altin. 

The man was leant against a wall behind the bar with his arms crossed, being spoken to by one of the bartenders who was pink cheeked and fawning. Otabek’s gaze, however, seemed to be focused entirely on drowning Yuri in its endless depths. He was wearing the same leather jacket as he had worn on stage, but now zipped up and with a black scarf over it, and a black leather hat on his head, strapped under his chin. As Yuri watched, and without breaking eye contact, he pushed himself off the wall, said something to the bartender, and pulled fingerless gloves onto both his hands. The eye contact was finally broken when he turned sharply and made his way around the crowd at the bar, ignoring the people staring at him and saying his name, and walked towards the door. 

“…God that was intense. I wasn’t imagining that right? He was looking at you like he could just… Tear you apart.” Mila said, slight awe colouring her voice. 

Yuri didn’t for a second think about what he was going to do next. The hot look he had gotten from the DJ had made his heartbeat speed up to exactly where it had been before he had rested, and his entire body felt like it was tingling. He shot up, with a garbled “I’m going outside” to his friend before he began to fight his way through the crowd to follow the DJ, ignoring her calling his name as he moved away. The other man had gotten a head start Yuri was going to catch up with him – he had to. That gaze warranted an explanation. 

He followed Otabek all the way to the doors and then went outside, ignoring the fact that he was cold without the black fur coat he had left in the cloakroom. It was fake fur but it was huge and it had kept him warm and feeling a little bit like a wild animal. He loved it. 

He looked around and his gaze landed quickly on the other man straddling a dark black motorcycle, and looking straight at him. 

“What the fuck was that?” Yuri asked without hesitation. Now wasn’t the time to be coy, no time was ever the time to be coy if you asked him, no matter how much this guy was making his heart race and his palms sweat. Ridiculous. “That look?” he added when Otabek failed to respond in the tiny pause he gave him. 

The other man blinked at him, and then said, “Your dancing. I could see you from the stage. It was… Incredible. You stood out beyond anyone else in that crowd. You seemed like you felt the music, like you understood it. Which would be something we have in common.” He said it all in an even tone of voice, as if he was talking about the weather rather than showering Yuri in compliments. 

“So what, you were staring at me like that because you think we have a lot in common? Sounds like a line from a dating website.” 

“Maybe. It was also because you’re hard to look away from.” 

Yuri was the one who had to look away at that, blushing furiously against his will, which only made him scowl more. “Shut up. Who are you anyway, too cool to stay at the club after you’ve played, so you’re driving off into the night?” 

“I love the music, and the dancing, but after playing I always want to just – drive.” He was so honest and straightforward it was almost disorientating – Yuri was used to people like Viktor who spoke with three meanings at once and hinted at things more than he actually spoke about them. He was used to Mila who spoke in sarcasm and irony as her native languages, and then teasing and innuendo as the next she had learnt. Georgi who was all purple prose, all despairing overblown statements and drama, Yuuri who was all soft ambling around his point, who had to be goaded into coming out with anything at all. Otabek was completely different from all that. He was blunt, probably to a fault. Yuri liked it. He liked it a lot. 

Then the other man said something that threw him for yet another loop. 

“Would you like a ride?” 

Yuri’s eye snapped back up then, trying to work out the seriousness of the offer. Dark eyes looked steadily back at him. “I… I’m here with my friends. I can’t just leave them for the night.” He said, trying to be reasonable and ignore the part of him that was urging him to throw caution to the wind. 

“I’ll bring you back. I have to turn up to the afterparty for a while anyway and it’s in a room just above the club. You and your friends can all come, if you want to.” 

Yuri didn’t bother to say they were already going. Instead, he took it as a sign that it was flawless and moved towards the bike, whipping out his phone. 

**Yuri:** going for a ride with Otabek, ill meet you at the afterparty. shut the fuck up. 

Before he could put his phone back in his pocket she had responded, like she had been waiting with fingers poised above the keyboard. 

**Mila:** !!!!  
**Mila:** OMG!!!!  
**Mila:** DONT GET TOO SAUCY U MINX!!!  
**Mila:** tell me if hes a good kisser xxx  
**Mila:** i bet he issssssss  
**Mila:** DONT HAVE TOO MUCH FUN! OR IF U DO USE PROTECTION! XXX 

Yuri had to fight the urge to throw his phone in the middle of the street, settling for locking it as aggressively as he could before he shoved it into the pocket of his skinny jeans. As he reached the bike Otabek offered him a black cap similar to his own and said, “Sit behind me and hold on.” 

As Yuri made to do so Otabek stopped him. Then he shrugged out of his jacket. “Put this on so you don’t get cold. You already look like you’re shivering, and if you’re not used to a bike it’ll be awful.” 

“I don’t need your jacket, I’m fine.” He was betrayed by the fact that he was shivering, ever so slightly. Otabek simply stared at him, letting one eyebrow raise ever so slightly. Yuri managed to hold the gaze for about seven seconds before his impatience got the best of him and he snatched the leather jacket out of the other man’s hands. He shrugged into it angrily, but he couldn’t help how much he liked it. It was much too big on his slender frame, and warm from being on Otabek’s body. It smelled like him too, just a little bit, under the smoky alcoholic scent of the club. It was like fresh sweat and then mint and leather. It was just a little bit intoxicating, and it halted any more complaints Yuri could have made before they even occurred to him. 

Wrapped up in the big leather jacket he finally sat down on the back of the motorbike. He tried to keep a distance between their bodies, placing his hands chastely on Otabek’s waist, but at that all he got was ‘you need to be much closer. Wrap your arms around me’ so he ended up plastered fully against the other man. He prayed his racing heart wasn’t too. He could feel the heat of Otabek’s brought back against his chest, and the hard muscles flexing through the thin cotton of t-shirt. He knew he was blushing now, and he could only be glad that he was sitting behind the cause of the redness in his cheeks. 

And then they were off, speeding into the night with a loud rev of the engine that could probably have been heard inside of the club. 

Being on the back of a motorbike wasn't something Yuri had ever thought about, having never really expected it to happen. He didn't realise how very much he would love it. The feeling of the wind whistling past him, through his hair, making his skin smart in the best way possible. He felt like pure speed, the way he felt sometimes mid jump on the ice – it was the same kind of rush of moving faster than you realised you could, even though it was totally different. The metal of the bike was hot between his legs and Otabek’s body was hot against his chest and beneath his arms and he was hot inside the leather jacket he had been given. Everything else was cold. The juxtaposition was thrilling. 

“Hold on tight.” Came Otabek’s voice, from a distance like they were in a wind tunnel, Yuri felt like he could feel it, a soft vibration against him, better than he could hear it. He tightened his arms, let himself slide forward to cover the teeny tiny inch of space he had tried to leave between their bodies. Otabek had to be able to feel his heart now. 

Then he sped up. 

Yuri felt like he was on a rollercoaster, flying through the air weightless and free, and he grinned furiously as he pressed his cheek between the other man’s shoulder blades. They raced down long roads, going faster and faster, the city a blur around them. Everything was lights and wind and it felt so so good. 

Eventually Otabek began to slow down. He had either left the city entirely or found a mysterious patch of green space in the middle of the buildings. It looked like a bunch of wide open fields with a river running through it and trees growing dense on most of the sides. There was a little cobblestone path leading into it from an open gate. 

As Otabek put his foot down and turned off the bikes power he asked “do you want to go for a walk?” And Yuri nodded in the dim night time lighting. 

Otabek got off the bike first, and held out a hand to help Yuri get down as if it was a far jump. Yuri still took the hand. But only because he didn't want to be rude. Not because he wanted to hold hands with this guy or anything like that. After that ride? No, he definitely didn't want to hold his hand. He wanted to make out with him against a tree. Hand holding seemed a little distant from that. But as he shook out legs that were ever so slightly wobbly and let Otabek guide him towards the gates he couldn't help but enjoy that spot of hand holding regardless. 

They walked along the path and through the moonlit park, hand in hand, for an indefinite amount of time. Something about the isolated open space and the softness of the rare streetlamps made Yuri feel something like free. Otabek’s jacket was big and warm on his body as he talked about ice skating, and the pressure of it, the way it wracked at his nerves oh so relentlessly. He talked about why he skated – for himself, maybe, but for his family as well. For his country. For expectations he wasn’t sure anyone but himself held him to. He told him about his grandfather having basically raised him, his mother busy being a star, and how ice skating gave him more of a family than he had ever really thought he could have. In return Otabek told him about his little sister, and his mother and how he adored them. He spoke about his confusion when it came to religion, and how dubious people had been when he had insisted he could make DJ’ing a career. 

Yuri told him he had never been on a date this lovely. 

“Oh, so this is a date then?” Said Otabek, a slight smirk lifting the corner of his lips. He was looking forward, and Yuri had been admiring his profile, the strong jaw and defined cheekbones and long lashes, until he said that and the younger boy began spluttering indignantly. 

He lifted their still joined hands and waved them angrily, “I don't make a habit of holding the hands of just any fucking guy thanks! What, are you always picking up guys and driving them away from parties to have walks in the park? This is just another Tuesday to you?” Otabek laughed, quiet but full, and Yuri yelled wordlessly. As he tried to disentangle their fingers the older boy gripped his hand tighter, pulling Yuri in until they were facing each other. 

“Sorry, sorry no of course not.” His laughing faded to a soft smile then, and his thumb stroked the back of Yuri’s hand as they looked into each other's eyes. Yuri felt his own face go slack, all of his concentration suddenly on drinking in Otabek’s face. “I just – I didn't expect you to be like this.” 

Yuri’s face hardened into a scowl once again with haste. “What? I'm disappointing your expectations? Fuck you.” This time Yuri did successfully wrench his hand away. He did an about turn and made it two steps before Otabek had grabbed it back, pulled him to a stop. He didn't turn around. Otabek spoke anyway. 

“That isn't what I meant at all. You're wonderful, Yuri. I just mean – from the way you danced, I thought you would be all softness and gentleness and you're not but – this suits you so much better. Fighter looks good on you. I liked you as a fairy but you're beautiful as a soldier too.” 

The unexpected words were enough for Yuri to turn around, if only so he could stare into dark eyes and try to work out the sincerity for himself. “…A soldier?” 

“That… probably sounds ridiculous.” Otabek said quietly. Yuri shook his head, and in a turn that surprised him as much as Otabek, moved closer, and then grabbed Otabek’s other hand. He swung their joined arms ever so slightly. 

“No I – I prefer it to fairy. Thank you. For – all of that.” 

Otabek simply nodded. 

They kept walking, unaware and uncaring of how much time had passed, until they reached the end of the path and turned around to walk back. Once back at the entrance of the park Yuri slowed down, pulling his phone out of his pocket as Otabek went ahead to fiddle with his bike. He had gotten a barrage of notifications, but he ignored all of the messages from people that weren’t Mila. 

**Mila:** kissed him yet???  
**Mila:** yurio! are u ever coming back!!  
**Mila:** did he kidnap u?! it's been ages  
**Mila:** LOL CHRIS JUST SAID ITS COS GAY SEX HAS A LONGER SET UP I HOPE U USE PROTECTION  
**Mila:** but seriously please text me so i know ur alive  
**Mila:** the club is gonna close soon it’s the last song  
**Mila:** tyypin n dacjng is hagrf  
**Mila:** typing and dancing is hard lol  
**Mila:** !!! reply!!! we’re going to the afterparty u better meet us there brat

Yuri felt slightly bad about making his friend worry so he shot off a quick I'm still alive and on the way back before sliding his phone back into his pocket and moving towards Otabek. 

He was leaning against the bike, his helmet on his head and fingerless gloves on his hands. Yuri walked right up to him, well into his personal space. He responded only by lifting an eyebrow. 

“Look I… tonight was. Really… ugh.” He hated how hard it was to find the words he wanted. Something about this guy made him all tongue tied. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to be sharp and icy with him, the way he was with most everyone else. He didn’t want to snap at Otabek. He wanted to just… talk. And he was a little out of practice with that. “It was nice.” He managed, lamely. He flushed slightly and tried to improve it. “I liked hanging out with you –” 

“Enough to do it again?” 

Somehow Yuri was shocked by this. “I – I live in Russia you know? I… Travel a lot for skating… I don't know that I… that we could…” Yuri had kind of been thinking of the night as a fairy tale. Something where he was the fairy his fans wanted him to be, and Otabek the prince that seduces him, shows him a world outside of magic but just as wonderful. He hadn’t expected this night to end with a big talk. To end with Otabek… Wanting to see him again.

“We could try. DJs can go a lot of places too. I have family in Russia – it wouldn't be impossible.” Without Yuri noticing he has taken his hand, and after he said that lifted it up to his lips. He kissed Yuri’s hand, so soft and earnest, and Yuri felt a blush overwhelm his entire face. 

For the second time that night he didn't think long enough to let himself hesitate. "...Are you going to kiss me tonight or are you just obsessed with my fucking hand?” 

Otabek’s eyes widened for a moment. Then they heated up, so suddenly Yuri felt his own widen in response to the hot look he was suddenly on the receiving end of. He smiled, not a smirk, but a real warm smile that lit up his whole face. He was so, so handsome. Yuri’s heart was speeding again. It managed to get impossibly faster as Otabek let go of his hand and cradled his jaw. He leant in so slowly, giving Yuri so much time as if he hadn't been the one to demand this, and Yuri almost forgot to close his eyes. At the last second before their lips touched he snapped them shut and then – 

They were kissing. 

It was heady. Otabek kissed in a way that was maddening; at first he was soft, nothing but a chaste press of lips against lips, making no moves to deepen the kiss. When Yuri tried, fumbling his way towards his goal despite his inexperience, Otabek pulled away slightly, until he was giving out nothing but feather light grazes that stoked Yuri’s frustrations to a new level. Just as he was about to growl, Otabek surged forwards. And then it was maddening in a different way. He kissed like fire, unbridled passion and force, kissing Yuri so hard he felt sure that his lips would be swollen in seconds, kissing him so hard he felt like he couldn't catch his breath, but even more like he didn't want to, didn't need to. Otabek overwhelmed all of his senses, both hands cradling his face, holding him so softly in contrast to the bruising kiss. At some point Yuri’s hands had come up to fist tightly in the cotton on the other man’s back, and his grip on him felt like the only anchor he had as everything spun away except the blazing heat they created between them. 

Otabek somehow moved even closer, until their bodies were pressed tight against each other, and Yuri could feel the muscular planes of Otabek’s chest against his, could feel Otabek's hair, the part on top that was longer, brushing his forehead. Then Otabek bit at his lower lip, just a gentle nip, and Yuri gasped in his breathlessness. All it did was allow Otabek to press even further in, tongue weighing wet on his bottom lip, licking into the inside of his mouth, against his teeth and the roof of his mouth, in ways that should have been unappealing, and had always seemed so from the outside, but felt incredible in the moment. 

They kept kissing for what felt like ages. Eventually Otabek's hands left his face, began roaming his body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. One was splayed out across the small of his back, huge and hot, pressing them even tighter together. The other had gently tangled itself in his hair, and was by turns tugging and stroking. One particularly hard tug had Yuri keen, his head following the movement and breaking the kiss. Otabek didn't hesitate, simply moved his lips down, kissing softly along Yuri’s jaw and then down his neck. When he got to the top of Yuri’s exposed collar bone once again he went from softness to heat, and he started sucking the skin there, laving over it with his hot tongue and then biting down, drawing moans out of Yuri that he didn't even realise he was making. The area Otabek was paying attention to started to feel deliciously sore soon enough, and then even the slightest graze of the man’s teeth made Yuri whine. At the last noise he made Otabek recaptured his lips and continued their deep kissing until Yuri was panting. 

They broke the kiss again, leaning their foreheads against each other and doing nothing but panting into each other's spaces, breathing each other's air. Again, something that should have been gross, but wasn't. Both of Otabek's large hands were holding him, at the very bottom of his back, almost straying towards his ass. They were hot underneath Yuri’s top, against his bare skin. Yuri gulped in huge breathes of air as if anything but decreased proximity to Otabek would clear his mind from the haze of arousal clouding it. 

Then Otabek pulled him even closer, as if there was space left between them – but apparently there was because finally their hips met and - 

God. 

Yuri hadn’t really registered the fact that he was half hard in his too tight jeans until he felt the hot hardness of Otabek against him and suddenly everything seemed not enough, not hot enough, not enough friction for his aching cock, not enough of Otabek’s naked skin against his even though as some point he had slid his hands inside of Otabek’s shirt and could feel every shift of muscle in the other man’s back as he moved. 

God. 

"Yuri... Yuri we should..." Yuri kind of hoped that sentence would end with ‘find somewhere more stable and maybe more horizontal to make out’ or perhaps ‘go back to mine, forget your friends I need to have you’ but instead, it was, “Go back to the club. You're here with your friends… and we need to go to the after party. For – just for a while. If you… if you still want to, after that…” he trailed off into silence. Yuri filled in the gap. 

“I could – come back to yours?” He flushed – as if there wasn't enough blood in his face and other assorted parts of his body – he felt like he had just invited himself over. “That was presumptuous. Fuck. Forget it.” 

“No that's what I would like. If you would like that.” 

Yuri nodded. His eyes were still closed because he wasn't sure he was ready to see what their making out had done to Otabek, if he was anywhere near as wrecked as Yuri felt. But he was sure Otabek would feel it, even if his eyes weren't open either. 

“Okay. Okay. Let's… go back.” 

As Yuri wrapped his arms around Otabek again, this time very dedicated to leaving some space between them, not wanting to rub his half hard crotch against the other man for the whole ride back like some horny puppy, he wondered if the spell of the night was broken. It has been so wonderful, so surreally amazing. 

He didn't want the night to end.

**Author's Note:**

> tell me what you thought :P i wasn't sure if i should end it there... but i did cos im p sure if i continued anymore it would spiral out of control and im far, far too busy to try and be writing two extensive fics right now... probably... no matter how... tempting the idea is... my tumblr is www.gway138.tumblr.con talk to me there if you wanna!


End file.
